


Karaoke Confessions Part 2 - No More Waiting

by ProphecyBall



Series: Karaoke Confessions [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Violence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-27 00:36:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15674472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProphecyBall/pseuds/ProphecyBall
Summary: When you get a second chance, don't let it go to waste.





	Karaoke Confessions Part 2 - No More Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Use of some lyrics from Foreigner's "Waiting for a Girl Like You" (Mick Jones, Lou Gramm)
> 
> Many thanks to my beautiful betas, LaBelladoneX and COYG_81, whose tireless editing actually produced something worth reading from all of my scrawls :)
> 
> On a serious note, this is VERY different than the first part. Mention and referral of domestic abuse right from the start. If that makes you uncomfortable, this is not the right fic for you, sorry :(
> 
> And for any Ron fans, apologies, but he is not portrayed in a good light in this one!

She sat in the corner. Unmoving. Curled up tightly, she was closed off from all and everything around her, with her hands clasped firmly together at the front of her knees. Her arms closed around in front, like a circle; a ring of protection nobody could breach. Her head was down, eyes firmly closed. Exhaling deeply, Hermione felt all hope expelling in a long sigh.

She made herself as small as possible, hoping to deflect the anger away from herself. It had always been volatile, with constant arguments over the years that usually started over silly things. Things that slowly grew and festered like a disease at their core, growing into bigger problems, causing slights and offences that could no longer be swept so easily aside. The unforgivable things they had said to each other through the years; it had never been steady, nowhere near simple with Ron. But even those painful days at the beginning were better than this.

Her throat was sore from where his hands had been, her arm aching from where he had twisted it behind her, pinning her down to the floor. All that was left to rain down on her now were his angry words which, although still unpleasant, were more preferable to the physical hurts he had previously bestowed.

She looked up to find him standing over her, his angry screams ringing in her ears and making her wish she could vanish — to completely disappear and escape his derision — or Apparate somewhere she could escape everything unpleasant. It didn't matter; he had long since taken her wand to stop her leaving. The verbal assault continued and her sense of self ebbed away with each word that sprang past her defenses.

Her breath hitched in her throat and she felt the angry prickle in her eyes, a sure sign of impending tears. That would make him worse. He hated her crying — called it weakness. She screwed her eyes shut to stop him from complaining further.

Here come the waterworks. You’re pathetic. It's all about you, as usual. _‘What about me? What about my career?’_ Why don't you try thinking about what _I_ want for a change? Why does it always have to be your choices, _your_ decisions? I don’t fucking _care_ that you want to carry on saving the bloody pixies or whatever it is this time. You’re supposed to be telling me you’re ready to have a kid, like we agreed.”

He sneered in disgust, mocking her distress with pretend sobs.

“Boo, hoo, hoo. Poor you. It's your fault that I’m this way, anyway. You and your stupid,  selfish ways. You’ve always been a bit annoying but now you’re just fucking constant. If you’re not going to do what I say this time, then leave—” he advanced a step with every word he spat “—me ALONE!!!”.

The last word was screamed at her head, making her flinch and shed the hated tears. She smelt the stench of Firewhisky ghost past her nostrils, spittal peppering her skin. She knew that, if she was to glance at him, his face would be a sight. His eyes would be bulging in his head, madness shining through his anger at her. Veins would be straining beneath his glowing red skin, highlighting his furious rage.

Snickering at the sight in front of him, he appeared to swell in size, his pride at her diminishment obvious in the puffing of his chest. He walked away to the table and sat down.

“Count yourself lucky you’ve still got me. I’ve put up with more of your shit than most people would, ‘Mione. Maybe you should be thankful for once, you ungrateful bitch. I can have other women whenever I want, you know; Quidditch groupies would bed me in a heartbeat. I can’t see who’d be interested in you, with that knotted pile of crap on your head that you call hair.”

He laughed, finding his own words amusing. She kept herself tucked into the safety of her shell, wanting nothing more than to be anywhere else but here. She knew it was only a matter of time before he’d fall asleep; he always did after this much whisky. Soon enough, the snores from the table confirmed that he had dropped into unconsciousness. She crept towards him and stood slowly, looking for her wand in the dark.

Not finding it on the table, she made her way cautiously to the bedroom and found he had put it in his jacket pocket again. It was either here or beside him at the table. He was so predictable. Something else that had caused rows was his belief that she thought herself more intelligent than him, _better_ than him. She sometimes _did_ think it, with evidence of his wand-hiding skills falling far short of complex.

Casting a Silencing Charm, she lowered herself to the floor and leaned on the side of the bed. In the quiet stillness of the room, she allowed herself to fall apart once again, crying despondently and wishing for it all to end.

 *********************

She sat for hours, staring as the light outside changed from the deepest pitch black to a warm pink. The sun slowly rose above the horizon and she felt something within herself break. No more. She wasn’t doing this again. She conjured a Patronus and sent it to Luna, asking if she could stay for a while. While she was waiting for the response, she cast a charm to collect some of her belongings and pack them into a bag. Reaching for parchment and a quill, she scribbled a quick note to Ron to tell him it was really over this time.

She left the house before he woke, walking quickly to the nearest Apparition spot and arriving around the corner from Luna’s home shortly after. The streets were quiet at this time of morning and she was thankful that there was nobody around to witness her appearance. Making her way to her friend’s door, she sat on the front step and waited for an answer.

Luna found her there not long after, already planning to Apparate straight to Hermione’s after receiving the otter’s message. After one look at her friend, Luna embraced her tightly and moved them both inside. Hermione allowed herself to mourn for the loss of her young dreams and all the plans she would need to let go. Ron had eroded so much of her worth that she couldn’t imagine starting over with anyone new.

She finally told Luna the whole truth — how it started, how long it had been going on and how bad it had become. She realised there was an issue when she started to make excuses in order to spend time with Draco at work, instead of going home to her boyfriend. It had been so hard that night — making the decision to stay with Ron — only to discover just how wrong she was in doing so because her feelings really lay elsewhere.

“....For Draco?”

“Yes,” she cried.

After many cups of tea, she was led to Luna’s bedroom and made to lie down. Luna joined her on the bed and wiped Hermione’s hair away from her red, swollen eyes, scooting closer to give comfort and reassurance. She felt herself growing drowsy and allowed the warm cocoon to pull her under.

“What do I do now, Luna?” she whispered just before falling into a deep, troubled sleep. “Nobody else could possibly want me, with the way I am.”

As the darkness took her over, she failed to see the tear run down Luna’s cheek at the lost look on Hermione’s face.

*************************************

Hours later, Hermione woke and reached out, realising she was alone on the bed. For a moment she was confused as to where she was, then a feeling of sadness overcame her as she remembered. Wondering where Luna was, she sat up, hearing voices through the open lounge door. Curious as to what was going on, she exited the bedroom and walked towards the bathroom, yawning and stretching her aching limbs.

Passing the lounge door, she heard angry whispers being exchanged. Shrugging slightly, she continued on her way until her name caused her to stop.

“Hermione doesn’t need this right now. She’s in the worst state I’ve ever seen her, and you remember how she looked after the War. This will not help.”

A male voice gave a clipped response.

“I am going to fucking kill him for doing this to her.”

Luna’s voice replied, placatingly. “I know. I didn’t realise it was so bad that she’d already been thinking about leaving, but she still chose _him_. She made her decision herself.”

“I swear, if she does go back to him this time, I will kill _her_. He’s breaking her and it’s killing me to see it happen.” His voice sounded familiar though strained, but she still couldn’t fully place the speaker in her sleepy state. If it was Harry, surely he’d just come straight in and ask her what was going on? Deciding to find out who it was, Hermione quickly turned back, only to slam her knee into a door frame. Crying out, she realised the whispers had stopped, before hearing a quickly muttered “Go!” and the crack of Apparition.

Entering the lounge, she saw Luna standing alone, wringing her hands together.

“How are you feeling, Hermione?”

“Much better after sleep, thank you. Who was that?” she asked.

Luna looked away before answering.

“Nobody, really. Okay, maybe a person who knew you were here and wanted to know if you were alright. Someone who cares.” She spoke softly but firmly, and Hermione knew there would be nothing more until her friend was ready to tell.

“Shall we go for some food somewhere?” Luna asked, looking at her once more.

“Yes. And wine. Or cocktails. Or both, I don’t mind.” Hermione answered.

 *************************************

They washed and changed before Luna Apparated them to a Muggle part of town. Hermione looked around, realising it was the same Karaoke bar she had introduced Luna to a few months prior. That was the night she revealed more than she had intended to, and was offered a chance to make a change. But, unconfident about romance as she was, she had made the choice to stay with Ron. What a mistake!

They found a small table near the back. After eating, the drinks began to flow and Hermione found herself relaxing for the first time since she could remember. The music played and people sang and she let herself drift into a bubble of calm.

The DJ introduced a new song and there was the gentle sound of a synthesizer playing, before it was joined by a drum beat. She felt her skin rise in goosebumps as she experienced a sense of déjà vu. Knowing the odds were ridiculous, but still feeling the need to reassure herself, she turned to the stage as the singer began.

“ _So long, I’ve been looking too hard I’ve been waiting too long._

_Sometimes I don’t know what I will find, I only know it’s a matter of time._

_When you love someone. When you love someone.”_

The stormy grey eyes pierced into her skin, making her stomach flip in response. She couldn’t move. She was locked in place, held by the intensity of his stare. Hermione was so caught up in his gaze that she didn’t hear Luna politely excuse herself and leave the table. Transfixed by the way he moved, she sat rigidly and waited — for what, she had no idea — but she knew that a slight motion would break the spell of whatever was happening.

He was off the stage before the music ended, striding toward her in a determined manner. He stopped a pace before her and she gulped, feeling the tension between them.

“I am going to kill the Weasel, just making you aware”.

The anger in his eyes was terrifying, and his rage palpable. Suddenly, realisation hit.

“That was you! In Luna’s lounge, that was you earlier. You—” she stopped, suddenly remembering what he had said, about it killing him to see her go back to Ron. Her gaze flicked to his lips as he moistened them. The memory of their kiss rushed through her and her breathing hitched. He honed in on it, repeating the movement and watching her as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

Seemingly reaching a decision, he reached out to her and grasped her arm, bringing their bodies together before she had time to blink. His mouth met hers and his arms snaked around her, crushing her to his chest. She was on fire, the kiss burning in its passion. She clung to him, kissing back in desperate need. She clawed at his clothes, his hair, rubbing her body against him… needing him near her. They were fighting for air but refusing to stop, consuming each other as though scared to let go.

Eventually they broke free, their arms entwined. They stared at each other, panting slightly, holding tight. After what felt like a lifetime, he reached to grasp her hand, bringing it to his mouth and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“You’re correct, it was me. Luna sent me a message as soon as you fell asleep. I came straight round to talk to you, but she wouldn’t let me.”

“But, why? I mean, I know we’ve kissed before, but I didn’t think you’d be so interested in my breaking up with Ron.”

He laughed softly and reached to caress her face with his free hand.

“I thought I explained all this last time we were here. I gave you the choice and you didn’t choose me then. I won’t lie, I was gutted. But I knew I’d keep on waiting for the time you’d give me a chance. Getting to know you as adults, as equals, I wasn’t expecting to fall for you. But then you tested me; you challenged me to keep improving so I don’t get left behind. And I realised I wanted to know how else we could fit together, so…. I waited until you were ready and, when I thought I had a chance, I gave it a go.”

He pulled her gently back into his embrace, kissing her tenderly on the forehead.

“This is my last try. I’ve been waiting for you for so long, which is why I chose this song. I’ve been waiting for you to come to me. But it didn’t seem like that would be happening. I decided one last time to come to you and ask you to make a choice. But this is it. I’ve spent my time waiting for you to fall for me and, if it hasn’t happened by now, it never will.”

Draco breathed out softly and she knew something important was coming.

“I’ve waited so long for you, but no more, Hermione. You need to decide what you want. Time to make a decision. No more waiting.”

She watched him for a moment, laying his heart out in the open. Requesting, not telling. Praising, not deriding. How did she miss this for so long? How could she not see, last time, what was being offered beyond the spoken words?

She took both his hands in hers and grasped them firmly, stroking them with her thumbs.

“This time I’m sure of the right decision. It’s you. No more waiting.”

With his face breaking into a grin, he leaned toward her and captured her lips again with his own, stoking the heat that was simmering inside her. She broke the kiss briefly to appreciate this moment, recognising its significance. She brought her mouth to his again after speaking for the last time.

“Draco, I choose you.”

  



End file.
